


Intermission

by Marquise



Category: Rope (1948)
Genre: Alley Sex, M/M, Philip is such a bottom, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21764530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marquise/pseuds/Marquise
Summary: Philip and Brandon take a break from the opera. Sequel to "Prelude."
Relationships: Phillip Morgan/Brandon Shaw
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	Intermission

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Prelude](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20472608) by [Marquise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marquise/pseuds/Marquise). 



The opera was lovely, the production lavish, but Philip could not focus on any of it. 

They had met Janet and David outside, breathless, with Philip at least afraid of what their lateness and hurried state would mean for David’s gossip. And if he was not mistaken he caught David raising his brows at their arrival, a smirk on his lips that Philip wanted nothing more than to slap off. But he kept himself controlled, in place just behind Brandon’s shoulder, the bandage on his face remarked upon only in passing. He had thought of Brandon’s mouth when it was mentioned and was glad for the darkening sky so that any blush he had was hidden. 

They had sat shoulder-to-shoulder in one of the back rows, the distance from the stage not diminishing the overwhelming sense of the opera, but all Philip could think about was Brandon beside him. They were touching slightly, legs brushing in the tight space, but nothing more and each touch sent a tingling jolt through Philip’s body. Janet seemed transfixed on the music, though if Philip was not mistaken she kept the two of them in the corner of her eye, a knowingness etched into his expression. David had, minutes into the first act, fallen fast asleep and he sat like a lump among their group, a weight they could do nothing about. 

He tried not to look at Brandon throughout, knowing that if he did he would grow weak, that the memory of Brandon tasting his blood would come rushing to his mind and he would not be able to control his body’s reactions. Instead he coiled his hands on his pants legs, hoping that Janet would not see his desperation. 

It seemed like it was hours until intermission was called and when it was Philip felt a shock when the lights turned up, the applause ringing in his ears. He shook himself out of his reprieve and joined in, dazed, glancing over as David startled awake and Janet lightly mocked him. 

In a flash he felt Brandon’s hand on his upper arm, squeezing hard, and he grew rigid, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked over and caught that heated gaze, the wolfish mouth, and wondered how no one else could see Brandon for what he was, or notice what passed between them. 

“Shall we step out for a smoke?” Brandon asked, his voice sharp, his fingers digging into Philip’s arm, the tightening going straight to his cock. Philip swallowed hard, his free hand grabbing his hat and forcing it in front of him, trying to hide his arousal from the crowd, feeling like he was 16 again. 

He turned to Janet and muttered some excuse, trying not to notice the sharp recognition in her eyes, and then Brandon was dragging him along, pushing him through the crowds and out into the crisp, cool night. The blood was running hot in Philip’s veins and suddenly Brandon’s earlier promise about making better use of the the intermission hit him and his knees grew weak. 

_For fuck’s sake_ , he thought, but he went along without a word, focused on Brandon’s slim form in the darkness as they went along, moving farther and farther away from the light and the music, into a comfortable and enclosing darkness. 

Brandon pulled them into some filthy, darkened alley. In between the buildings the city seemed to fall away, almost as if they had entered another world. Philip’s head was spinning, desire and fear at battle throughout his body, and it was only when he was certain that Brandon had stopped that he tore himself away. 

“Brandon, we’ll be missed.” The words sounded empty even as he said them but he felt the need to voice it, to put up some fight even if he knew he would give in, that he was locked in Brandon’s thrall and purely, utterly useless against him. 

“Let them miss us,” was the hissed response and then Brandon’s mouth was on his, familiar and biting, pressing Philip up against the dirty wall. He felt his skin prick, aware of what was happening to his clothing but unable and unwilling to stop any of this. He reached up to grasp at Brandon’s finely-combed hair, his nails digging into his scalp and bringing a low groan from Brandon’s throat. 

His lover pulled away, smirking at him in the night. Philip’s eyes darted to the end of the alley, worried that someone would stumble upon them at any moment, and as he did that Brandon took control of his body, turning him around so that his front was pressed against the cool bricks, taking his breath from him. 

“ _Brandon_ ,” he hissed between clenched teeth. Sudden fear gripped him. They had no oil — at least as far as he was aware — and even in their most heated moments Brandon never took him unprepared. He trusted him, even if he really shouldn’t, and his hiss only got him a clucking of Brandon’s tongue. He undid Philip’s trousers with a hurried hand, reaching inside to pull out an already hard cock, long fingers wrapping around the shaft, a happy hum running through his thin body. 

“It will be okay,” he muttered in Philip’s ear, nipping at the lobe. He gripped Philip tightly, slicking his palm with the wetness at Philip’s head, and began to work him over with the expert ease that only a long-time lover had. 

Philip shut his eyes tight, just letting himself be taken. The sensations running through him threatened to tear him apart and all he could do was grind back against Brandon, at the erection that was clearly evident through his evening wear, pride at the fact that he could get this reaction from a man such as Brandon coiling through him. 

“ _Christ_ ,” he muttered and Brandon rewarded him with a bite and suck to his neck, certain to leave a mark that would need to be covered by Philip’s scarf, the pain a delicious inversion of the cut from earlier. 

“That’s it, love,” Brandon rasped against his ear, his hand making quick work of him. Perhaps Philip should feel some shame at this, at being taken in an alley like a cheap rent-boy, but the dirt and the grim and the intensity was simply too much. He bit his lips as he tried to contain himself but the scream was too much as Brandon worked him over. And Brandon seemed to sense it, quickly using his free hand to cover Philip’s mouth and muffle his cry as he spilled himself onto Brandon’s hand, staining the wall he was pressed against. 

He rested his head against the brick, his body shaking with convulsions, conscious of nothing more than the steadiness of the building and Brandon’s body laying against him. He could feel his lover's palm against his teeth, a strangely intimate sensation that wrapped itself about his heart. As he came down Brandon lowered his hand, kissing his neck in a loving gesture that did nothing for how used, cheap, and shameful Philip felt. 

But there was nothing to be done about that. He was this, he was Brandon’s, and he would always bend to his will. It was not, overall, the worst thing to be. 

He turned around, correcting his pants, wondering what a mess he was. Brandon’s eyes were bright and Philip was conscious of the fact that he had not allowed himself to come, that his erection was pressed against Philip’s thigh, desperate. 

“I think we missed the beginning of the next act,” Philip said, even though it all seemed pointless. He knew they would not be returning, that soon they would be hailing a taxi so that Brandon could take him home and fuck his mouth before taking him on the living room floor, hands on his throat, making Philip come for the second time this night. 

“I think you’re in no state to return, darling,” Brandon said with a laugh, the white of his smile sharp in the darkness, beaconing. 


End file.
